


I'm Not With Them

by cakeisnotpie



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Meet-Cute, Protesting, Veteran Clint, cop phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7957066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeisnotpie/pseuds/cakeisnotpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another in my series of daily Phlint drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not With Them

**Author's Note:**

> Based upon a photo post on tumblr. See the link below.

based upon[ this post:](http://allthingsmustfall.tumblr.com/post/149590539756/castielcampbell-fragile-fallen-angel)

Phil wished, for the thousandth time that afternoon, that he could filter out the chants and obscene threats being shouted just behind him.  Bad enough that it was the hottest day on record, with temperatures hovering around 100 degrees fahrenheit with a humidity of freakin’ 91%. No he had to be assigned to crowd control for these homophobic assholes from Westboro Baptist Church as they protested a soldier’s funeral. A soldier who died in the line of duty serving his country. A married soldier with two small kids and a grieving pregnant widow. Just thinking about what that family was going through made Phil’s blood boil. But he had a job to do and he was going to do it, damn it, even for for asswipes like these people who’d as soon see him roast in hell as say thank you.

It didn’t help his blood pressure that he still hadn’t come out to his family, too afraid of seeing the disappointment on his father’s face and hearing his mother weep at the prospect of never having grandkids. Plus, there weren’t any gays on the force who were out-of-the-closet; Phil wasn’t sure he wanted to be the first; he wasn’t much for being the one in front, leading the charge. He liked to be the quiet, unassuming guy who was dependable and consistent. Let someone else be the poster child; Phil just wanted to live his life in peace.

“You need Jesus!!” the red-faced guy right behind Phil yelled, leaning over the sawhorse barrack to wave his sign at the mourners entering the funeral home. “Homosexuality is a sin!”

Phil flexed his fingers rather than make a fist. He’d never wanted to slug someone so badly, just turn and plant one right in the guy’s face. The man had been spewing vitriol all day and Phil was sure he’d hear that voice tonight in his dreams.

Just then, someone stepped up beside Phil, outside of the protesters’ zone. A long flowing beige robe, one shoulder draped with a purple cloth, a rainbow color set of prayer beads, a really bad long brown haired wig … the guy’s blue-green eyes peered over the top of his aviator shades and he winked at Phil.  Looking up, Phil read his sign.

**I’m NOT with these guys.**

For the first time all day, Phil smiled, a real smile that was followed by a quick chuckle.  Now that he had a good look at the fake Jesus’ face, Phil realized he’d seen this guy earlier, as part of the veteran honor guard that rode up on their motorcycles to protect the family from the protesters’ view. Cute, that’s what Phil thought then, with muscles in all the right places and a very nice ass on display.

“Officer!” the red-faced man behind him said. When Phil ignored him, he said, louder, “Officer!!! You have to get rid of this guy. He’s not with us.”

With the utmost of sarcasm Phil could muster, he turned and replied, “Everyone has a right to free speech, sir. As long as he maintains his distance, he has just as much right to be here as you do.”

“That’s not right!” the man shouted. 

“That’s the law.” Phil was finished with this guy.

“Not my law! My law comes from the Bible!” the man complained. 

Phil ignored him, crossing his arms over his tac vest after wiping sweat from his forehead. Fake Jesus stayed where he was, sign held high, not acknowledging the protesters at all.

When the last car had left for the graveside service and the barricades removed, Phil did a sweep of the parking lot and found fake Jesus, out of his robes and back in his regular clothes, packing up his saddle bags.

“Hey,” Phil said, stopping to admire the man’s ass as he leaned over. “Thanks for that. Great response to a shitty situation.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure Jesus would take issue with those guys and over turn a few tables in their vicinity. Hell, considering what he said and did, he’d be at the head of the Gay Pride Parade if he were around today.” The man smiled and Phil’s body fired off neural impulses in response. “The sign was the least I could do.” 

“Yeah, well, it was a good thing you did. For the family.” Phil stuttered to a stop and tried again. “I mean, I liked it too but I saw the wife’s face when she came out. She sort of smiled, which is a lot, considering.” The guy’s smile grew wider, lighting up his whole face and leaving Phil even more discombobulated than usual. “I just wanted to say … that .. and … um … nice bike you’ve got there …”

As Phil stumbled around for anything akin to words, the guy took out his wallet, pulled out a card and held it out. “Here’s my cell number. Yes, I’d love to get a coffee or drink sometime. To talk about it.”

“Oh, yeah, right, that’s what I meant,” Phil managed to get out. 

With a wink, the man slung his leg over the bike, starting it with an easy kick. “I’m Clint, by the way. Nice to meet you …”

“Phil. My name is Phil.” 

“Nice to meet you, Phil.”


End file.
